Provenance
by Feistee
Summary: A story about Mrs. Coulter and Lord Asriel 13 years before the events of the Golden Compass, and the affair that ultimately led to their undoing.
1. Chapter 1

**Provenance**

* * *

**A/N**: His Dark Materials is one of my fav. book series' and in it, Mrs. Coulter and Lord Asriel always really interested me. I was slightly disappointed when the third book did not give them as much page-time as I might have liked, but I understand it was Lyra's story. Still, both characters were very intriguing. Here, I have tried to recreate my own version of how the two characters met, and ultimately conceived Lyra. Thank you for reading!

* * *

Amongst the tinkering of glass and the bursts of short, haughty laughter, she felt exhilarated. When one of the servants came by, offering a tray of Tokay, she took one of the lean flutes and held it in front of her loosely without a second glance to the man or his dog dæmon.

"I must say, Mrs. Coulter, you look ravishing tonight," said the elderly gentleman in front of her. If her memory served her correctly, his name was Carlo Boreal, and she knew he was a figure of importance in her husband's line of work. The woman beside him nodded lethargically in agreement as she took a long swig of wine.

"My lord, you are too kind," she said, watching him through her eyelashes unassumingly. It was not difficult at all to do so, even under the man's steady gaze. "But please, enough with the formalities. You know my name."

"I would ask you to dance, my dear, but it seems that your husband approaches," said Boreal, his gaze rising above her shoulder.

When the man in question reached Marisa's side, she wrapped her arm around his waist, bringing them together in a pretty arrangement that made the guests whisper excitedly. She heard people murmuring about what a handsome couple they were, and this made her limbs tingle with elation.

"Darling," she said, planting a chaste kiss upon his cheek. "The Lady Delphine was just looking for you."

Edward Coulter offered his hand to the stout woman. He was a slim man, and his neatly parted hair and clean demeanor made him look quite fitting for the role of politician. The quiet brown owl dæmon at his shoulder watched them all with a knowing eye.

"Now, Edward, how does it feel? To be part of the King's counsel, and not yet forty, at that!" Delphine said eagerly.

"Amazing," Edward said simply as he pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "And I'm sure that I will learn much from this experience."

Delphine mimicked her nod from earlier. A sign of approval. Realizing that it was her turn to play the doting wife, Marisa looked to the nearest servant and took a spoon from his tray delicately between her forefinger and thumb. She cleared her throat and chimed the utensil against her flute of Tokay, invoking a hush from the gathering people around them. She turned around to rise on a small dais where the piano player had stopped his music at once. The golden monkey ran up to her shoulder gracefully and twined its tail around her neck.

"My dear friends," she began, "thank you for celebrating with us a most momentous occasion! My husband and I could not have hoped for more gracious company to share this evening with and I hope you're all enjoying yourself. Before we continue, I would like to say: there are none in this room more proud of Edward than myself. I would like to formally express my congratulations to him, for he worked so very hard to get this."

"Hear, hear!" came a cry from the crowd.

There was a rush of laughter and applause, and the piano player started up a slow romantic piece. When the clamor had died down some time later, Marisa continued her tireless efforts to acquaint herself with all of the guests. She met Edward's colleagues and praised them on the work they had been doing for the monarch, then several scholars and feigned her utmost interest in their fields of study. She had spent hours the night before memorizing names and faces, and so far, it had certainly been paying off.

Soon, a light voice came from behind her, "My dear, I don't suppose you have been to the Royal Arctic Institute." It was Boreal.

The man was rather pestering, trying to goad for her attention, but her pleasant demeanor did not waver. "Unfortunately no, my lord. But as you can imagine, I would like nothing more."

"A colleague of mine, and a fellow member of the establishment, is giving a speech tomorrow on his recent findings to the north. I would like to invite you, if you so wish it."

"It would be an honour."

"He must have arrived late, but it seems like Edward has met him already."

She followed Boreal's gaze to see her husband talking rather animatedly to a tall, brooding fellow. Immediately, as if he knew that she was looking, the man's dark eyes snapped in her direction and he watched her with a strange expression writ on his striking features. She stared back unflinchingly until he was forced to turn his attention back to Edward.

"Actually," Boreal started again, "he just returned from north of Muscovy, not three days ago. He assures me that he has discovered something of interest. You will not be disappointed when you attend."

"I'm sure," she said as she watched as Edward and the man approach.

"Marisa," Edward said, "this is Lord Asriel, eminent explorer and researcher in experimental theology."

She fought the urge to wrinkle her nose at the words 'experimental theology'. But then, her attention was captured by the great, elegant snow leopard that stood beside the man. It was a beautiful, lithe creature, with brilliant striped fur and large amber eyes that seemed to house an infinite wisdom as they watched her.

"My lord," Marisa said courteously. She could feel the golden monkey tense slightly as it watched him and this action was mirrored by the rapidly beating heart in her chest. Edward excused himself and made his way back to Delphine and a group of his friends, but she barely acknowledged his leave.

Asriel bowed ever so slightly. As he stood, she saw the shadow of a beard on his stern face, and fierce dark eyes. He looked spent and worn, undoubtedly from the traveling he had done. But still, his presence commanded her attention like no other had done before. She was not accustomed to that sensation, for she was usually the one with the power in a confrontation.

Boreal interjected, "Asriel, I was just telling her of your presentation tomorrow. I thought she might like to attend."

Asriel nodded slightly, letting his lips quirk up. "I am sure that it will all but bore the good Mrs. Coulter."

"Quite the contrary," she said lightly. "I find it all rather fascinating."

The knowing smile on his lips remained as she said this, and made her uneasy. A servant approached again, making another round with his refreshments, and she was quick to replace her empty glass with a new one. Asriel did not touch it.

"I'm afraid the drink would only dull my senses further," he explained. "You must understand, I'm still weary from my journey, and tomorrow is an important day."

"Yes, of course," Marisa said.

After that, the conversation seemed to be spent, and even she could not stir any interesting talk, as Asriel seemed reluctant to reply to anything she asked. So she dusted off her dress and politely excused herself, deciding to slip out of the spotlight for a moment, and retreated towards the empty front atrium of the house. The walls of their home were bright with rich shades of carmine and gold. Edward was a collector of trinkets and baubles from all over the world and he housed them in elegant mahogany curio cabinets that were in the foyer on display. Though she had seen them a million times before, she slowed her walk to examine them. At the center of the magnificent arrangement of jewelry and strange instruments sat a perfectly spherical stone which glittered spectacularly in the light. It was almost translucent but seemed to hold a maelstrom of swirling mists and clouds within it. Edward had said was a very rare piece from Africa, but the name was escaping her, so she continued onwards.

In the bathroom, she looked at her reflection in the fine mirror above the white porcelain sink, hoping that she still looked as fresh and lively as she did at the start of the evening. Her sharp blue eyes betrayed her, drooping slightly and giving her exhaustion away, so she sighed as she powdered her nose deftly. The golden monkey rubbed his eyes slowly, in an attempt to chase the tiredness away. She wished everyone would go home soon, for she wanted nothing more than to crawl under her covers and fall into a dreamless sleep. But she was quick to retract that thought, and ran her slender fingers through her tresses hastily before leaving the room to find herself once again under the bright lights of the foyer, but this time, she was not alone.

That man from earlier, Asriel, was standing in front of a cabinet, examining the trinkets with a deft eye. He, too, had sought refuge from the crowded party. Ever the hostess, she came beside him, following his gaze to a thin old wooden shaft, with several holes drilled through the sides.

"Edward tells me" she said, as her mind raced to remember details about the item, "it's an ancient Skraeling flute."

Asriel nodded. "I saw something not unlike this when I met with a group of Skraelings to the north. They used it as they healed and meditated. Is that where Mr. Coulter came across it?"

"No. Edward does not enjoy traveling out of the country. He generally looks to others to get his pieces," Marisa said. "But he is an avid collector and I'm sure he would love to hear more of your stories." She took an inconspicuous step towards the room with the other guests, hoping that he would get the hint. He did, but did not react the way she had anticipated.

"Are you trying to pass me off to your husband, my lady?" Asriel said. However, he did not look offended at all. "I'm boring you already, just as I predicted."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said with a trained laugh that echoed through the empty room hollowly. "My lord, I would like nothing better than to show you the rest of Edward's collection. His favourite pieces rest in the conservatory."

He held his hand out in an invitation to let her lead the way. And she did, past the hallway that led to Edward's study, and into the room they were seeking. Asriel needed no more guidance and headed immediately for the nearest glass case, scrutinizing the contents within. She trailed behind him, careful to leave space between them, mostly for the sake of her own agitation. The golden monkey was pacing restlessly around her in circles while the snow leopard had stretched out at Asriel's feet languidly. From her viewpoint a safe distance away, she was surprised to find him deep in thought, which brought a stately look to his features.

Without looking up, he murmured, "I had no idea Edward Coulter was married, until now."

"How could you not?" she asked. Edward's rise in the political ranks had been the focus of media attention over the last few years. Their marriage, only eighteen months ago, had easily been the biggest news of all. Then, suddenly, she knew why. "How long were you traveling?"

Finally, his gaze lifted to meet hers, as his stormy eyes shone with mirth, but a steady frown remained on his face. "Two years. I haven't stepped foot in England for two years."

"Goodness," she breathed, rounding the glass table to place a hand on the cool leather of the deep sofa. "You certainly are dedicated."

"And if I may say so," Asriel drawled, ignoring her comment completely, "I met him twice before my departure, and I never thought him one to end up with someone quite so…" He examined her, just as he had done to the items in the glass cases moments before, as if he was searching for the words. She stood, expressionless. "I just never took him for much of a charmer."

"Well, my lord, you insult me. I'm not the kind of woman to be wooed by superficial allure," she said sharply. But in truth, his admission had not perturbed her at all. She was simply surprised that he had been so straightforward. He was incredibly bold; no one else would have dared to speak to her in that manner. At that moment, she found a curiosity welling within her about the man, and this overcame her initial anxiety.

"My apologies," he said, not really sounding sorry at all, "your loveliness is more than enough to make any man spew such incongruous thoughts."

The empty words had little effect on her, but she smiled amiably all the same. They started on their way back to the foyer once he had finished his inspection of the artifacts. "I suppose I can excuse you this time, my lord."

"Good, but unfortunately," he said with a long heaving sigh, "I think I should retire now. You've a wonderful home."

"So soon?"

"Yes, well," he took her hand in his and grazed his lips across them, and the beginnings of his beard tickled her skin unassumingly, "I hope I can expect your company tomorrow at the Institute." He stood up to his full height, which was, she realized, rather menacing.

He opened the intricate door to the house and stepped outside into the cool night air. When he was past the patio steps, she called out, "If I may suggest one thing, my lord?"

"Yes?" he turned around.

"A cleanly shaven face will do wonders for your speech tomorrow."

He quirked an eyebrow, but that was all. In a minute, he had turned the corner, and was gone.

* * *

The golden monkey fidgeted on Marisa's lap, but she stared him down, and he settled quickly. Lord Asriel's presentation had captivated the entire audience in the lecture hall, and the question period had resulted in bursts of voices from all over the auditorium. He answered them exuberantly, walking about the stage, this way and that, and she found her eyes were glued to his tall frame. The snow leopard bounded after him, just as lively. To her amusement, he had not elected to shave, and stood in front of them looking much as he had the night before at her home, but filled with far more fervor. He spoke of the northern lights, and strange observations he had made about their occurrence and patterns. For a moment, just a split second, as he had finished answering the final question of the day, he caught her gaze. She could not help but let a hint of a smile form on her lips. But as quickly as it had begun, he turned away and the moment was gone. 

Boreal sat beside her and leaned in closely, murmuring into her ear. "Simply astounding, no?"

She nodded, distractedly, as Asriel was approaching, so they stood to greet him, and Boreal shook his hand with fervor. He turned to her and said, "Thank you for coming."

Mimicking his gesture from the night before, she raised an incredulous brow, but said nothing.

"The scholars of Gabriel College," Asriel told Boreal, "they want to speak to you about your latest publication. They're all rather eager. Wouldn't stop pestering me."

Boreal glanced behind him, excused himself profusely, and scurried off in the direction Asriel had come from.

"Let us get something to drink," Asriel said, brusquely walking past her. He slowed to whisper in her ear. "Quickly now, before he comes back."

"That's rather rude, my lord," Marisa said, but she followed him all the same, unable to stop the smirk from sneaking on her face.

"Please," he drawled as he held the door open for her. "You can't stand him."

She did not even try to deny his accusation. Asriel held his arm out in invitation, and she took it, even though she thought for a moment that it may not have been in the interest of propriety, as there were many people milling about and neither of them had faces that were easily forgotten. But she held on gently as he guided her outside, across the street to one of the outdoor cafés.

"What did you think?" he asked as the waitress set some tea in front of them.

"You're a gifted speaker," she said, taking a demure sip from her cup, taking care not to burn herself with the hot liquid.

"Ah, but a gifted speaker can only do so much with lackluster material." His short blond hair waved in the gentle wind that had picked up speed in the narrow London streets. The sun was creeping higher into the sky as noon approached and he was forced to shade his eyes from its glare.

"Lackluster it was not."

"And the museum, have you taken a look at it?'

"Yes. It was all rather grand. It certainly would have made Edward feel like an amateur hobbyist."

To that, Asriel smiled, and though she knew that the expression was scant seen on his severe visage, it was very becoming of him. "Have you ever wanted to travel to the north, Mrs. Coulter?"

She thought for a moment. Her first notions of the arctic were planes of never ending monochromatic scenery, a blur of dull blues and faded whites, the thought of which spoke little to her. But over the last few years, with her involvement with scholars from the surrounding colleges, her interest had grown slightly. She had not considered actually going north, but the thought held a certain appeal now.

"At times," she decided to say.

"Next time I go," he said, "I will be sure to bring something back for you."

She did not know it then, but she would go to the north. Several times, in fact, and even on occasion, with the man in front of her.

"It would be greatly appreciated, my lord."

"You know, until then," Asriel said, his eyes never leaving her face. "I have some pieces in my own home I think you may find interesting."

She knew very well what his intentions were, but decided to feign ignorance, as she thought the man was intriguing, to say the least, and his vested interest in her had only stirred this curiosity. The direction of the conversation called forth a certain sense of nostalgia from her days before wedlock because back then, she was certainly no stranger to charming men. She propped her head upon her fist and said, "Edward and I would love to get the grand tour."

Asriel leaned in closely, indulging in her petty game. "My lady," he said in a low voice, "I was not intending to say this outright, but I suppose I shall. The invitation was for you alone."

"That," Marisa breathed, "was entirely inappropriate." She was not chastising, taken aback, or offended. She was merely stating the obvious.

"You haven't declined," he pointed out.

She gave a sly smile as she pushed her chair back and stood. She hitched the lapels of her jacket up against the November chill and said, "I had a wonderful time, but I think I must be going. Good day."

He glanced at the snow leopard and sighed, downing his tea in one final gulp.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - Thanks so much for the kind reviews, I really appreciate it, and it's great to see other people enjoy reading about Mrs. Coulter and Lord Asriel as much as I do. To **blahblah11**, I would be interested in knowing why you think they are a bit OC. Just giving a rationale for how I picture Mrs. Coulter before Lyra's birth - undoubtedly, she married Edward because of her greed, and I always imagined her taking a 'back-seat' in helping the two of them gain influence amongst the wealthy in Britain, but she was still very involved in his career, probably from behind the scenes. She was kind of forced to sit back because ditching Edward would result in the swift loss of her status and she really knew what was in her best interest. After his death, however, I always thought she really came out on her own, becoming more like the Mrs. Coulter from the books because she had Edward's reputation fueling her towards the topmost tiers of the church. Afterall, this is all happening quite some time before the books, and people do change over time. Anyways, enough with my rant! I'm sorry if it wasn't entirely coherent, but I wrote it in the span of 5 mins. Thank you again for reading!

* * *

The snow was falling and crunching under her boots as she walked with Edward towards a great stone edifice that stood erect in front of a looming gray structure. The angles of the building were sharp and lean and entirely breathtaking as they approached. Edward held her arm as they crossed over a slippery patch of ice on the steps and she thanked him as they walked in, where a bearded man garbed in long robes greeted them in front of the crowd that had already gathered.

"Good evening, Mr. Coulter, my lady," the Master said, turning to both of them. "Welcome to Jordan College."

"Thank you, sir," Edward said as they were led into the auditorium to a box where they could see the stage in its entirety.

Edward's work had involved some close relations with the church, and hence, it required him to attend many conferences and meetings that were held by the country's most prominent theology experts. He began whispering in her ear, giving her a quick overview of the content of the presentation, and she listened intently, knowing it would come in use later. When the speakers came on stage, Edward leaned forward, giving her a clear view of all the guests beside him. Four spots down, a tall figure was taking a seat; Asriel was late again. He turned subtly and caught her eye as he silently strummed his fingers against the armrest. She looked away, feigning nonchalance, and focused on the presentation, but she found it tiresome and her mind wandered until the intermission finally came.

At the banquet hall in the rear of the building, the Master of Jordan College greeted Edward as his billowing ebony cloak ruffled behind him. "Thank you so very much for attending the night's events."

"It was my pleasure," Edward said pleasantly.

They proceeded to speak about Edward's new position, and how exactly the point of conversation changed, Marisa did not know, but the Master asked, "Mrs. Coulter, I must ask, how did you meet your husband? I've known him for years, but never thought a woman could detract him from his work. It was an amazing feat you accomplished."

It wasn't particularly difficult in actuality, she thought inwardly. "We met in Rome. It was rather unremarkable, I assure you."

"I sincerely doubt that." Asriel, as she had anticipated, had slipped in from behind the Master.

"Lord Asriel!" the Master exclaimed. "Mr. Coulter, I do hope you've been acquainted, for you see, Jordan College is Lord Asriel's alma mater."

"I attended several years ago," said Asriel as he adjusted the cuff on his sleeve deftly and turned to Edward. "Jordan has an unsurpassed academic atmosphere. It's a most suitable place to hold this little gathering."

"We have met, yes," Edward said with a dismissive nod to Asriel. He patted Marisa awkwardly on the arm, and led the Master away from the two of them, twittering about his conversation with a priest last month in Hertfordshire.

"I don't think he likes me very much," Asriel said in a low voice.

"I don't think so either," she replied bluntly, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice.

"And tonight, yet another intriguing thing I learn about you, my lady. How did you find yourself in Rome?" Asriel took a small step towards the balcony, past the other mingling guests. It was an escape from the heady aroma of the sweets and tarts that filled the long dining tables.

Marisa narrowed her eyes as they stepped onto the veranda amidst the dark of the night, but responded coolly, "I was there with a friend. I managed to get in with a good crowd, and I was invited to a get-together. Edward happened to be there." The 'friend' had been a man, and she had left him two weeks after meeting Edward. She had not thought of him since. "I was there for nearly two years."

"You were very young, my lady, and brave indeed to leave your home."

"I grew up in London," she said sharply, "but it was never my home." The conversation was quickly taking a turn into territory she did not care to venture into, and an inquisition was the last thing she had expected that night.

Asriel angled his head in her direction so that his profile was clear against the dull inky curtain of the night sky. "Those are very harsh words."

She shrugged and let her gaze lazily drift over the college's buildings. Tall parapets jutted upwards, towering above oblique roofs, but that was all she could discern in the darkness. They stood in silence for some time, and she could already hear the hall behind them emptying as the guests returned to the auditorium.

"Do you approve of your husband's work with the church?"

No one had asked her that before, but her answer was immediate. "Of course. It wouldn't have been possible for him to get that promotion had he not worked so closely with it," she said flatly as she examined the sheen of her nails in the blue moonlight.

"Precisely," he asserted. "He would be _nowhere_ if it wasn't for his unwavering support of the church. Although, I'm sure you know that already."

She remained silent, but she stood erect with curiosity.

"There have been far greater politicians, my lady, but they have shown far less interest in the religious branches of the government, and as a result, haven't seen their careers progress nearly half the rate of your husband's," Asriel said with a distinct edge to his voice. The snow leopard growled soft behind them as she flicked her tail upwards lightly.

"Well?" she said, urging him to continue.

"I just think it's interesting," he said. He leaned over the edge of the banister out into the cold and his breaths emerged from his mouth as little clouds of air.

"The church gave Edward a leg-up in the government, nothing more. Besides, who are you to question its actions?" she said icily. The golden monkey had plucked some of the crisp frozen ivy from the walls of the building and crushed it slowly in his black hand as he gazed upon Asriel's dæmon.

Asriel clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply. "I can question anything I wish. It would be wise to remember that."

She could feel her skin prickle in the winter air but promptly ignored the discomfort. "Well, I would hope that any enmity you hold towards Edward has not extended to me, my lord," she said with a sultry smile as she took a step forward to lean her own bare arms against the smooth stone of the barrier. They were close now, and she could feel the heat emanating from his body against the naked skin of her shoulder.

"I must say first," he began, "that I am not in the habit of charming the wives of other men. I hope you do not take me as such." He turned again towards her and murmured, his voice considerably softened, "My invitation still stands. I would hope you could join me this weekend."

Now this was a dangerous game she was playing, she thought. Warm fingers touched hers gently, but she withdrew, turning around and walking into the confines of the building.

She took care to brush his side with her own and said, "People will wonder, my lord, of our absence. Please, let's return." She did not wait for him and brusquely walked to the auditorium, seating herself beside her husband, and watching the remainder of the presentation.

* * *

Marisa had already missed Asriel's weekend invitation, though she had mulled over the prospect of visiting him endlessly over those two days. She had seen him only once since then, but she had promptly ignored him. But now, nearly three weeks later, she stood in front of a large building just north of Brixton. She adjusted the strap of the purse on her shoulder and marched in, and after a few minutes of coaxing the bellman for entrance, she was on the fifth floor in front of a burgundy door. She rapped on it sharply and took a step back. It was opened by an older man who was certainly not Asriel and he did not ask for her name but simply offered her way into the flat. The place was grand, but not in the way of her own home. It did not boast material wealth, but instead, exuded a sense of worldliness. There were immense paintings on the walls depicting scenery from far-away places, and the living room immediately in front of her had furniture made entirely of cherry woods and dark velvets, all reflecting the mysterious ambience that so very well suited Asriel. 

"In the study, Madam," the man said and he disappeared into one of the corridors.

Marisa opened without knocking to see Asriel behind an immense oaken desk that was littered with papers. He looked up for an instant, then back down at his work. If he was surprised at her appearance, he had clearly not showed it. She shook her head and let out a soft sigh of annoyance.

"Just one moment," he said, scribbling something furiously in his notebook. He stood swiftly and brought his hand to the back of his neck wearily. "Forgive me, it's been a rather vexing day."

Asriel ushered her outside back into the main area where bottle of wine had already been placed on the table, undoubtedly by the manservant. He poured two glasses and walked up two steps to an elevated part of the room with a vast semi-circled window that looked over the city scenery.

"You work too hard," she said, offering no other words of support.

Marisa easily unbuttoned her coat and set it down on the plush fainting couch near the wall. A small glass casing on the adjacent table caught her attention. She crouched to examine it closely and saw it a fist-sized lump, shrouded in purple cloth. Asriel came and sat down, reaching out to remove the glass and set it aside. He held the item gingerly in his hands and motioned for her to join him, when he folded back the soft cloth to reveal a glinting golden instrument. It was round and flat, with intricate etchings carved into its metallic shell.

"May I?" she asked, holding her hands out to him. Asriel placed the object in her hands and folded her fingers over it gently in a deliberate manner.

The object opened up to reveal an arrangement not unlike that of a compass. Around its circumference were small colourful symbols and pictures, depicting animals and items. She knew instantly what it was.

"An alethiometer," Marisa whispered. She gently turned a knob on the side of the instrument and watched one of the needles turn around aimlessly. "Where did you get this?"

"How do you know about them?" He blinked, genuinely surprised.

"If the church knew-," she said as she passed it back to him carefully.

"I would appreciate it if you were not candid about its existence," he said flatly, placing the alethiometer back onto the cloth atop the table.

"Flaunting your possession of the instrument will only get you into trouble from people intending to harm you."

"I know you didn't intend to talk about arcane nonsense all night." He hooked his ankle across his knee and watched her intently, clearly fed up with the particulars. "Tell me, what did you expect would happen when you came here?"

"I have no idea. I was hoping you would help me there," she whispered gently as her blue eyes fixed on his, and a flicker of understanding passed between them silently.

The golden monkey and the snow leopard sat at their feet, watching each other intently. Asriel's gaze had lowered to her lips and she fought to control the pace of her heartbeat as it thudded against her breast. She was so sure that he would kiss her then that she closed her eyes, waiting, but nothing came, and she knit her brows in confusion.

He moved agonizingly closer until she thought she could taste his lips against her own, but realized it was just the slow brush of air against her skin. "Two can play at your cruel game of tease, Marisa," he breathed with a harsh smirk.

The bemusement etched on her features was replaced with seething anger as he began to withdraw. She was quick to lean and to seize his lips, detecting the wild, fruity tones of the Tokay on his tongue and his fingers were tangled in her hair in an instant as he drew her closer. She let an arm snake around his neck while grasping the coarse fibers of his sweater in her other hand with desperation. The thoughts of being with this man were dizzying and almost irresistible as they raced through her errant mind, but seconds later, using all the willpower she could muster, she resisted his touch, pushing against his chest with the pads of her fingers. Asriel pulled back, his face flushed, and swallowed hard.

"_Play_ all you wish, dear," she said, her voice hoarse from the moment of passion. She stood up and slid her jacket back on, and her satisfaction grew at the bemused expression on his face.

She spun around on her heel as she tightened the buckle around her waist and left the flat without another glance back.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - Thanks so much again for your reviews. I am glad that people are enjoying the story. Here is another chapter!

* * *

When Marisa first received news of her father's death in the form of a telegram, she had folded the piece of paper neatly, put it within pages of the novel she had been reading as a bookmark, and proceeded to have a cup of tea with her neighbour. She returned to her home to find the message, expectably, in the same spot she had left it, and with some resentment decided to respond to it. She wrote that she would, in fact, come to the address of 429 Old Rawling Place next Thursday to collect her father's belongings, which she was sure would be meager and worthless. Still, she was surprised that the man even had the foresight to produce a will before his death, and even more so to find she had been included in it. After all, she had not seen him in nearly fifteen years.

When Edward came home that evening, they sat at the dinner table, with him perusing a folder of documents while he ate his meal. Occasionally, the owl dæmon clicked her hooked beak and ruffled her feathers distractedly. He left shortly after they had finished eating, having an urgent matter to attend to at work. She did not tell him about the telegram she had received.

As Thursday quickly approached, she found herself contemplating a rather curious thought, which soon came to fruition the morning she departed to her father's house. After a coach ride through the city, she was once again standing in front of a large burgundy door, and reminiscent of her other visit, the manservant led her into the study where Asriel was leaning against a bookshelf. He brought a hand to his temple and sighed with a mixture of fatigue and frustration, turning to see her enter.

Before he could react, Marisa said, "Would you accompany me today? Do not ask where, you will find out in due course."

Without a word, he ushered her out, took his thick grey overcoat coat and within moments they were both out in the cold snow laden streets of Brixton. When they reached London proper some time later, she led them into what Asriel could only describe as a rather dodgy neighbourhood. The houses were narrow and crooked and clumped close together, most of them made from ashen brick that contrasted brilliantly against the bright snow. Every so often, a building would be boarded up, and the untouched snow drifts in front of it would be piled so high that even he, with his tall stature, would have had trouble wading through it. Groups of children gathered on corners, playing with stones and sticks and other common baubles that only they could find amusing. They stopped their games to watch Asriel and Marisa walk through the streets with apprehension, for surely, a wealthy couple such as them had no business in their part of town. One rather small, dirty faced boy spat at their feet as they walked by, only to run off laughing to his comrades who jeered at them from afar.

Asriel watched them curiously while she paid no attention, focusing intently on their destination. They passed one larger slanted building and Asriel knew at once it was a church, though it looked poorly cared for. A great stained glass window had become dulled and ravaged with age. He had no time to examine it further since a moment later, they were in front of a row of one story houses, all surrounded by one common line of dilapidated picket fencing. He approached the fence of the home they were facing, but found the gate stuck as he tried to open it. He shook it slightly, but it would not give. Marisa nudged him aside and expertly worked the hinge axel, turning it in a peculiar fashion until the gate turned inwards easily. She flew in, gliding across the cumbersome snow as if it was a cloud, and stood on the steps, waiting for Asriel to catch up with his slow and deliberate saunter.

She smoothed her skirt over her legs and tightened the azure scarf around her slender neck before pulling the worn wooden door and entering the house. From where he stood, Asriel could see only a tiny hallway opening to a room on the left, and another on the right. The bare walls were an unsightly shade of ochre, and a faint musty scent was quickly filling his nostrils. The paint was peeling and cracking and dust was thick in the air. A noise came from the left, and she immediately headed in that direction, where they met an elderly gentleman with a crown of auburn hair around his head. He had a group of squashed, greasy boxes piled in front of him, and his mouse dæmon squeaked to alert him of their entry.

"Mrs. Coulter!" he exclaimed, wiping his hands on his pants and holding it out to her. Wearing a mask of grief, she took his hand in her own, before turning to examine the empty room with her sharp eyes. "I'm Jacob Prior, I work with the government, and I was put in charge of your father's will and estate. Though I must say, I was expecting you to come with your husband."

"Edward has a busy schedule, Mr. Prior. He's out of town at the moment, but believe me, he has shown his utmost support."

"And you are…" he said to Asriel.

"A friend," Asriel replied curtly.

"Yes, well," Prior said slowly, shifting his gaze from Marisa to the dark man in front of him, "as you can imagine, your father's belongings are few, but he left all to you, my lady. The majority of these boxes are refuse, things lying around the home, but this one," he said motioning to the corner, "has things I thought you may find interesting. Of course, you may go through the ones I've already sorted through."

"There's no need," she said, lacing her voice with forlorn emotion.

"His will is rather scant, he really left it bare bones. He actually made it not three months ago, if you would be interested in knowing." Prior withdrew a piece of a paper from a cream envelope on the stack of boxes closest to him and held it out to her. "To you, now Marisa Coulter, the deceased leaves all funds, amounting to ninety-six pounds, eighteen pence. Further, the deceased leaves to you the property of 429 Old Rawling Place. You can read the rest if you wish, but I assure you it's just legal babble, but that will the be part you'd be the most concerned with."

"No need," Marisa repeated before crouching to examine the contents of the good box. "If you would," she said simply, motioning to the door.

"Oh, yes, I'll be back in a moment," Prior said quickly. He hefted one of the damaged boxes and scurried out of the room. They heard the old front door groan as he left.

Asriel stood tall behind her, watching with interest as she extracted an old sepia photogram from the nearly empty box. She examined it for a moment before holding it up behind her for him to look at. The picture captured the church from earlier, undoubtedly years before, as it looked to be in a slightly better state. There was a dark-haired woman, pale and sickly looking, with a drawn out face standing unsmiling in front of the gate. Beside her, no taller than her shin, was a child, garbed in poor cloth and wearing a stony expression. On her shoulder was a sleek marten; her dæmon before it settled. Even as a toddler, Marisa was eye-catching, with plump cheeks and alabaster skin and delicate, pretty features.

Asriel was careful not to touch the picture with his fingers, and simply held it in the palm of his hand, waiting for Marisa to finish. The box also held a cheap faux gold necklace with gaudy pink jewels encrusted on the chain, and a wooden spinning top. He did not know what else it held, for Marisa gathered those things in her hand and pushed off the ground gracefully to stand. She faced him with a steely gaze and waited for his reaction.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said. It was a mechanical response.

"Come now," she said, "even _I_ am not sorry. It wouldn't have made a difference if he were alive. But then I suppose I wouldn't have this pocket change, would I?" she scoffed, pointing to the will.

"Your mother?" Asriel asked, holding the photograph out to her.

Marisa squinted at the photo and nodded with hesitancy. "I think so, yes."

He motioned to the necklace and toy in her grasp. "Why are you taking those?"

"I'll look like a damned fool if I don't take some of this rubbish with me," she responded smoothly. "Propriety calls for it."

As if on cue, Prior had knocked on the front door before walking in and looking to Marisa for permission to enter. She nodded, giving a well-acted shuddering sigh and drifting to Asriel to take his arm, as if for support.

"Mr. Prior, thank you for what you've done. I think I've taken what I need," she said, holding the items tightly against her heart. "If you would be so kind as to donate my father's money to the orphanage on Haddon Way. Edward and I will be making our own contribution by next week."

"Of course, my lady," Prior said, nodding. "You are certain you would like nothing else?"

"Sell off this property, if possible," she said as she glanced at the photogram once more. "I should go, though I know it's rather soon. You do understand, don't you Mr. Prior? It's hard being here after all these years."

"Yes, my lady," he assured, giving a sympathetic nod of his head. "Please, go. I'll take care of the rest."

Marisa broke from Asriel and embraced Prior, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before leaving. On the street, she waited for Asriel to join her, once again taking his arm, letting him lead her east. He knew the political body was a cesspool of rumours and falsities and though Prior was not an eminent member of the cabinet or the like, news of her father's death would spread from him, albeit slowly. Prior would also put in a good word about the way she portrayed herself during their meeting and high society would have another reason to love the Coulters and Edward would tighten his grip on office just a little more. Edward was a lesser man in the limelight for so many reasons besides his own pedestrian talent and she too knew this. Asriel Belacqua could not stand mediocrity. Marisa Coulter feared it.

"You've been awfully quiet," she said pointedly, breaking the silence.

He breathed in deeply and looked upwards to the dreary grey sky. "Why bring me along?"

"I don't know."

It one of the few completely honest things she had said to him. The snow, he realized, was falling again, and flakes of it had started to cling to her hair and clothes. She looke at him, her dark eyes wide and brilliant and at that moment he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again. But he didn't. The dirty faced boy from earlier had sat on the steps to his tiny house, looking upon them unabashedly, but the streets were otherwise deserted. Knowing then it was time for him to depart, Asriel took a step back, bowed his head slightly and walked away. Marisa watched him leave before making her way around the bend, when she came upon a rubbish bin on the corner. She fished out the old necklace and the wooden top from her pocket, throwing them in without a moment's hesitation. She tucked the photograph back into her coat beneath her breast and held her hand pressed up against it to ensure that it did not slip out during her walk. When she arrived home some time later, she passed it to the golden monkey. Spent from the day of roaming around, she sat on the leather bergère in her living room and watched as her dæmon paced at her feet. She gave a sharp nod and the golden monkey scampered over to the cackling fireplace and threw the photograph in viciously before joining his master at the seat. She watched it burn.

* * *

Marisa had not slept properly in three days and the tumultuous waves of fatigue were becoming more frequent and more potent. The strain on her body had become so evident that even Edward had shown some concern, but thankfully, she was distracted from her weariness when Carlo Boreal invited her for another visit to the Royal Arctic Institute.

Boreal's snake dæmon twined itself around his arm for repeatedly, and for reasons unknown, it infuriated Marisa to no end. With a dazzling smile plastered on her face, she took a demure sip of tea from her periwinkle cup. The restaurant they sat in bustled with the daily evening crowd and she was delighted to see that she knew many of the patrons. Eminent scholars made up the bulk of the familiar faces, but dispersed among them were Edward's co-workers, cabinet ministers, and several members of the clergy.

"Marisa," Boreal said in a low voice, "I was intending to keep this from you a while longer, but well, the excitement is too much to bear. A certain member of the church has been looking to collaborate with the Institute in regards to a research project. He came to me, asking for a possible group of people to help him with his work. Of course, I thought immediately you would do well in assisting him, with your husband's ties. And from what I have been told, you have shown a good deal of interest in the work of theology."

With those words, the weariness in her body was washed away and she was ecstatic. "Thank you so much. Who is he?"

"Father Gaius. He would like to meet you in person, of course, but I've no doubt that he would love to have you work on his behalf." The snake had slid back down his arm and down one of the chair legs languidly.

Still, one thing had gone unanswered, and she needed to know. "Forgive me if I'm being forward but…would I be granted membership with the Institute? I have been a frequent visitor over the past few months, you know that."

He looked taken aback for a moment and then suddenly hesitant as he pursed his thin lips. "Membership with the Institute is very hard to come by, you must understand. I don't know if it would be possible."

She let out a forlorn sigh and placed her hand atop his, running her thumb over his knuckles soothingly.

"But _you_ could do it, Carlo," she said with a quiet urgency. "I know you could. The people here revere you. _I_ revere you."

The golden monkey had slipped beneath the tablecloth surreptitiously to run a long finger along the length of the snake. It had stopped moving to allow the monkey to caress its smooth keeled scales.

"It's particularly hard for a woman," Boreal continued with agitation. "I know it's a primitive notion but it's the way the Institute operates-"

"Please, Carlo," she pleaded as she leaned in closer across the table and an intoxicating scent assaulted his senses and he watched her with wide eyes. "I will do anything. Will you help me?"

His resolve was shattered into a million pieces. "Of course, my dear." He scratched at his neatly trimmed grey beard with a strange and distracted smile that did not leave his face for the rest of the night.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N - **Thanks so much for the kind and insightful reviews. Here is a rather short fill-in chapter :)

* * *

"Do you know who Boris Mikhailovich Rusakov is, Mrs. Coulter?"

"Yes, sir."

Father Gaius sat down at the long table. With his fingers steepled, he bid her to continue.

"I know he died some time ago in incarceration."

"Do you know why?"

"I do not believe anyone knows for sure, sir," she said. It was a clever and unassuming answer.

She did know the church had not been kindly to the man who had made news last year for his arrest, imprisonment, and subsequent demise. His friends and colleagues in the colleges had protested the way he was treated, but it was announced that officials had reason to believe Rusakov had been dabbling in demonic arts. All remonstrations had died soundly at the church's proclamation.

Gaius took his spectacles off and let them hang around his neck from a beaded chain as he examined her. "Recent findings with the church have resulted in the re-examination of some of Rusakov's theories, which I'm sure you have gathered were the cause of his fall from grace."

"Which theories, sir?"

"Rusakov particles," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The church has decided to work with Oxford's colleges to research Rusakov particles. I would hope you would help in relaying information between the church and the collaborating scholars and the development of some of our theories."

"Of course," she said kindly. "It would be my honour."

"The church has every reason to believe that they are an endangerment to public wellbeing and security."

Marisa crossed her arms and watched him, her eyes flashing as she narrowed them. "How so?"

"That," Gaius said, "you will find out soon." The nightingale on his shoulder fluttered slightly before zipping towards the door and he followed in suit.

* * *

Over the course of the next several weeks, Marisa learned a great many things about Rusakov particles. She knew at once that the inquiry into their existence was done as a result of the church's fear of the particles. The clergy had also developed a rather unsophisticated method of detecting them, what could only be described as the Rusakov particle's equivalent of a metal detector. Now, Dame Hannah, a leader of a woman's college in Oxford was watching as Father Gaius and two scholars operated in instrument. 

"You see," said the younger scholar as he swept the pole of the detector back and forth across the room, "it can quantitatively show us how much is around us. Although, this is all relative, there's no unit of measurement, but the scale shows when areas become more dense with the particles."

Marisa walked up to the instrument which at once began to elicit a more frequent beeping noise. The detector had confirmed the theory that in the presence of humans, the particles were inexplicably more numerous.

"Strange, isn't it?" Dame Hannah said.

"Is it in us?" said the other man, a junior scholar from Gabriel College. "Inside every single one of us?"

"No," Marisa said. "It's around us."

"How do you know? If they are, there's no way of getting rid of them, none at all."

" I already examined multiple cadavers with the instrument yesterday," Gaius said smoothly. "The particles do not coalesce because of our _bodies_. It is something else that attracts them."

"Consciousness," said Marisa. "But not that of a beast. Only human consciousness."

Dame Hannah murmured something to the scholars and they shook their heads with disbelief. They put their heads close together and hissed urgently to one another.

"Enough!" Gaius snapped. He gathered his supplies and started for the door as the other trailed behind. "Come, I'll show you the charts from last week."

Dame Hannah said her quick goodbyes, and Marisa and the golden monkey were left to wander through Gabriel's garden, though at the moment the snow and dead brush considerably dampened its beauty. As she made her way off the college grounds, she came upon a young boy packing the snow together in front of a large bare oak tree and out of nowhere, an idea hit her like a tidal wave. She quickly adjusted her overcoat and approached the child.

He caught her shadow moving out of the corner of his eye and looked up with apprehension, but the fear melted away almost instantly as he saw the kindly smile on the beautiful woman's features and he returned to his game.

"Hello," she said softly as she sifted through a mound of snow with her foot. "That's an impressive fort you have there."

The boy grinned but said nothing more. He was not well-off from what she could see. His coat was frayed at the edges and of poor quality, and his trousers had small holes where the knees had worn away. He was thin and small, no older than eight.

"But out here in the cold so long, I would imagine you'd like something to eat? Sweets, dear?"

And he was enraptured. He nodded and licked is lips eagerly and she gave a light laugh, offering her hand. They boy took it, and his dæmon changed from a dark brown polecat to a cream terrier wagging its tale excitedly. She squeezed his hand and began leading him back into towards the college and past the stone archway into the open air corridor.

"What's your name?" she asked gently as she squeezed the boy's.

"Jacob," he said moving closer to her for warmth. "Where's the sweets?"

When they the detector room, Marisa motioned to one of the cushioned seats and hoisted the boy by his arms before coming close to him and smiling. "I'll get them. Wait here."

He nodded and swung his legs back and forth. She left the room in a flurry and headed straight to the kitchens, managing to get a glass of Chocolatl and some foil wrapped candies from the irritable cook. When she returned, Jacob had not moved, but as he spotted her, colour visibly sprouted on his cheeks.

"Here, my dear," she said, holding the boy's head and tipping the glass to his lips. "Good?"

He gave a muffled reply as he downed the glass in minutes. He reached for the sweets, but she pulled them away. "Jacob, before I give these to you, would you do something for me?"

He nodded, but his eyes never left her hand which held the brightly coloured sparkling wrappers. "Thank you. It will simply be a moment."

She went for the detector and turned it on; at once a slow and steady beeping

filled the room. She approached him, holding the pole in front of her steadily. Jacob looked up, his eyes wide, and suddenly shrunk in his seat and his dæmon changed into a far larger Doberman and growled. The golden monkey bared its teeth and the Doberman took a step back

"Jacob," she said lightly, "just sit still. It will be over in an instant and you won't feel a thing."

He sat frozen as she brought the rod over his head, around him and beneath him. The result was always the same: there was no change. There were no particles. Marisa inhaled sharply as she set the instrument aside. Jacob had begun to approach her hesitantly, clearly shaken. She grabbed the candies in her pocket and pressed them into Jacob's tiny hand before leaving the room hastily with her new revelation fresh in her mind.

* * *

Upon hearing of the new discovery, Gaius had immediately relayed the information to Jordan College in hopes of getting support for a northern expedition. He had long hoped to visit the north to visit the site that Rusakov had developed many of his mathematical models and now that their research was actually yielding results, he believed they would be able to do so. Money was not a factor; the church fully funded anything they needed, but they needed the minds of Jordan, experts in the fields of northern exploration, to help them with their findings. They sat now in a courtroom like setting, where rows of Jordan scholars sat unmoving, garbed in humble black robes and furs. They were discussing their opinions on the matter. 

"Simply mindless rabble, no tangible proof-"

Then a timid whisper. "But the church, if we do not approve, what will they do to Jordan?"

"Can we really afford-"

Then there was silence as a tall form stood up in the rear of the room. He easily ignored the sudden stillness and rounded the seating area, standing in front of rows of scholars.

"Lord Asriel," said the Master, seated in the center.

"I have been consulted by Father Gaius as a contributing member for the possible expedition to the north. I will serve as both a patron of Jordan and a member of the Royal Arctic Institute. He assures me my services will come in use," Asriel said evenly.

Now this was respect, Marisa thought. All in the room were rapt with attention, and their eyes were fixed on Asriel's frame. Silence hung thick in the air, but this was because of an excited anticipation. Still, Asriel did not speak for a time, playing the audience as if it was putty in his hands.

"Imagine, Master, what fortunes will be reaped for Jordan at the success of this inquiry! The church's utmost support in future ventures, insurmountable and newfound reverence for the college." he said. "Rusakov proved the existence of these particles. They are around us, there is no denying that."

Gaius stood, attempting to interrupt his speech, but Asriel had gained too much momentum to be stopped. He started to step back to his seat and grabbed his traveling cloak from the chair before swinging it around his shoulders brusquely.

"Were it not for the church's abrupt silencing of his research," Asriel continued boldly, "I'm sure we would be a lot further along than we are now. Nevertheless, gentlemen, you've a decision on your plate. Make the right choice."

He swept from the room, leaving an air of utter stillness behind him. After a moment of recovery, Marisa stood, deciding to finish what Asriel had begun. "The scholars of Jordan are world renowned. We came here first because of that. However, there will be no regrets if we turn to another academic establishment and you will have lost this golden opportunity to lesser men."

They were shaken and doubtful as Marisa had hoped. The Master stood, prompting the other scholars to all follow him towards the rear exit where they would convene and discuss the matter at hand. But even before they had emerged one hour later, Marisa knew they had won.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N **- Two chapters in one day, and as you can probably guess, my fav. to write thus far.

* * *

The Royal Arctic Institute banquet hall had been decorated in familiar shades of blues and creams in order to celebrate the induction of a new member. A snowstorm raged outside and she wore backless pink chiffon, but her cheeks were still flushed from the heat of the people and the effect of the wine. 

She heard a deep voice in her ear. "Come, let's dance."

She took Boreal's arm and guided him to the floor as a slow minuet floated from the string ensemble. Unbeknownst to him, she looked over his shoulder, scanning the crowd but all to no avail, and she sighed with impatience. She did not know why she was acting this way, and forced her mind to stop idling on such trivial things. A few people to the side clapped as the song came to and end.

"Thank you, my dear," Boreal said.

She laughed lightly but made no attempt to spur the conversation forward and broke from him resolutely before slipping through the throng of people past the dimly lit corridors of the Institute. She took one flight of stairs silently and navigated the newly widened hall. Glass cases lined the walls, housing dated weapons, animal tusks, ancient garb and other artifacts that she had grown familiar with over the last several weeks. She came upon a door of frosted glass and pulled it open silently. She stepped within to see a room filled with metallic and complicated looking instruments and whirred quietly like tiny engines. In front of a narrow glass table, Asriel stood. He was staring hard at the golden device on the table; the alethiometer sat open and unyielding as ever. She knew, of course, that Asriel could not read it. It was a delicate art that required a patience and delicacy that was so unsuited to him. Yet he watched it as if it held the answers to all his troubles.

"How long have you been up here?"

"It doesn't matter," he said dismissively. He clearly wanted her to leave.

She slipped into a great wooden chair and joined him in his intent gazing of the instrument. He gave a rough sigh as he picked at the tweed of his jacket.

"You would enjoy yourself if you came down." She knew he would despise the crowd downstairs and the thought amused her immensely.

He didn't even dignify her proposal with a response as his gaze shifted down to their dæmons who were acting very curiously. The leopard sat as graceful as ever at his feet, her eyes firmly set on the golden monkey who was approaching. The monkey reached outwards slowly and in an instant his little hands were running through the leopard's fur. His claws raked down her back slowly and the leopard shivered almost imperceptibly. Asriel closed his eyes and for a moment, he imagined the feeling of Marisa's hands running down his bare back, just as gently and skillfully.

"You behave like a common harlot," he said acerbically. The snow leopard stood and rounded Asriel to stand behind him warily as he gathered the alethiometer and some of his stray papers from the table.

The word duality came to mind when she thought of Asriel. His demeanor then was so different than that day at the café for reasons unknown, thought she could surmise it had something to do with his research. The monkey trotted back up the table and into Marisa's lap, completely disinterested. "Harlot, perhaps."

He snapped his briefcase shut and prepared to leave but she stepped in his path. Though she had never intended to be so bold when she decided to find him, she leaned in to the hollow of his neck. She could detect an earthy and deep musk floating from his skin, and let her eyes close before murmuring, "But common? That's just cruel, Asriel."

His hands had settled above the gentle curve of her hip as he pulled her closer against him. Marisa knew that unlike every other man she had met, Asriel was not a slave to her body but even he was not immune to enticements of the flesh. She could feel warmth pooling within her in response to his touch and she pulled back to look at him. His eyes darkened, the colour of ice, cold and unforgiving. Exactly what she imagined the north was like.

Then there was the gentlest squeak, the unmistakable sound of a hinge. Marisa was quick to step away and turn to see who was the cause of the intrusion. A young man swayed in his spot, blinking and clearly inebriated.

"I'm looking for the men's room," he slurred. He took a step further inside and his squirrel dæmon scurried in after him.

Marisa stared at the man, unimpressed, and started to leave. The golden monkey took care to thrust the tiny squirrel out of their path vehemently as they went through the jamb and she could hear Asriel's strong footfalls behind her as they left the confused man alone. They descended the staircase together, but while she turned back to the banquet hall, he steeled himself for the cold and took the second set of doors out into the raging storm outside. For a moment she could hear the roar of the wind until the door swung to a close again. With a moment of a contemplation, she decidedly circumvented the loud banquet hall and heading to the coat check. To her chagrin, Boreal was meandering around the vestibule and he spotted her as she shrugged wool overcoat on.

"You're leaving?"

"Yes. It's getting late and Edward's coming back home early tomorrow," she lied easily. "Thank you for this."

"My pleasure," he said. He leaned in to press his lips against her cheek roughly, but his movement was sloppy and his senses dulled by the alcohol. "Might I offer you a ride home?" he asked.

"I think I'll decline," she said. "Good night, Carlo." And she swept past him through the giant wooden doors leading outside.

She walked resolutely, ignoring the chills that were creeping up her exposed legs and gathered the scarf tighter around her face as she came upon the public transport coach stop on the corner. After 15 minutes of waiting, the blurred headlights of a rundown carriage were finally approaching in the distance. When she boarded, an unpleasant needle sensation prickled her skin as she warmed up in the coach's confines.

She was given a number of strange glances from the three passengers who were also present, but ignored them and took a rear window seat before running her hands over the golden monkey's lustrous fur in an attempt to warm them. Her stop came on a dark corner illuminated by a single wrought iron lamp post. She was on the move again and the cold was numbing her thighs and calves when she got to her destination: a familiar multi-story brick building. Then she was on the fifth floor, but she did not knock before entering. The manservant was busy tidying up Asriel's living room and bowed slightly in her direction. Marisa knew at once to take the second corridor in the flat, in which she had never been. A mahogany door was at the end, fitted with heavy shining brass handles which she pulled to gain entry.

The room was dimly lit, with only one small anbaric lamp on the bedside table providing light. He stood, silhouetted in the moonlight, dark and tall and incredibly menacing. His jacket had been discarded on a plush leather chair in front of a fireplace. The dark stone was arranged in a handsome herringbone pattern, and as Asriel struck up the hearth, the beauty of the masonry was emphasized in the flickering light.

Marisa went to the window and drew the pleated drapes to a close. She trembled until she approached the fireplace and drunk the welcoming heat in deeply. The snow had melted and soaked into her jacket so she took it off quickly to lay it atop Asriel's, but the chiffon she was wearing beneath did nothing to keep her warm. As she stood in front of him, they both looked to the side where the leopard had begun to circle the monkey, growling, as if angered by their previous encounter. Her powerful shoulders moved with the rhythmic motion of her steps but she did not come closer to the other dæmon.

The monkey decisively shot towards the leopard to nuzzle her neck and touch her fur and amazingly, she responded with fervor, letting out a low and rumbling purr. As if he could not stand to watch them any longer, Asriel gave a shuddering exhale and in two long strides he was in front of Marisa, and he gathered her close to him and buried his face in her damp hair. A quiet sound escaped her throat as she pulled his head towards her own fiercely and when their lips met it was so different from the first time. There was no teasing or anger but something entirely different. His hand had slipped beneath the coral strap of her dress to draw it aside and she could hear the golden monkey chitter quietly to the side. She found it so hard to draw in a breath as his hands roved over her body, but she could not, and did not stop her ministrations.

Then unexpectedly, between feverish kisses, he had whispered, "You are as uncommon as they come, Marisa." Whatever little resolve she might have held was wholly destroyed, and in that moment, she was totally and utterly his.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** - After 4 months of no updates, I eagerly produced chapter 6. Unfortunately, school was waaayyy to busy for me to do anything, so sorry about that. But now, it's nearly Christmas, so I have more free time (yay!). I just saw TGC movie yesterday, and I think the actors were all superb (especially Dakota Blue Richards - absolutely adored her) - but in all honesty, the story should have slowed down just a little bit more. They could have done with an extra half hour / 45 min, in my mind, since many aspects of the story were rushed. Still, it was visually stunning, and I did enjoy it, though I can see how people who haven't read the book may be confused...but I'm sooo hoping for TSK and TAS (I will cry if they don't make it). Anyways, sorry that this is sooo short, but here you go!

* * *

Light hit Marisa's face and she stirred as the glaring brightness managed to cut through her deep slumber. She glanced around slowly, drowsily, to see Asriel lying on his front, his face buried deep in the goose down pillow beside her. His broad shoulder was marred with red markings where the skin had broken from shallow and long scratches. She touched him lightly with her hand and shivered with pleasure, knowing that she had been the cause of them.

There was the smallest movement of blue as his eyes flashed open beneath his hooded lids. He blinked slowly and watched her as she moved from beneath the duvet to gather her belongings. She slipped on the dress and picked up her purse, sitting back down on the bed as she extracted a cosmetic compact and opened it. She examined her face in the tiny mirror, flattening her hair before spotting an unsightly dark spot on her neck and dabbed at it with the makeup until it was nothing more than an almost indiscernible shadow on her pale skin.

She turned and saw Asriel had rolled over, his chest rising and falling with every breath, as he stared at the ceiling, again lost in his own ponderings. She edged closer and leaned over him slightly, forcing him to look at her.

She leaned in slowly, closing the distance between them, but then he said evenly as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, "I would think Edward would notice this too." He reached up and pressed his hand against her side. She winced.

"You would be surprised at how nearsighted he can be," she said as she hiked the skirt up beyond her thigh to be greeted by the unmistakable sight of bruising on her hips, where Asriel hands had clutched her the night before.

"Please," he said, stolid as ever. He sat up and swung his legs off the bed to grab his trousers. The leopard gracefully stood from in front of the fireplace and stretched languidly, arching her back to work out the kinks from her stiff muscles. "You know that doesn't surprise me at all."

Marisa wondered then if Asriel hadn't so obviously detested her husband, would he have still pursued her? If he had respected Edward, would they be in this situation now? She thought so, yes. For nothing was allowed to get in the way of Asriel's pursuits.

She had never been one for pillow talk, and though she hardly thought their conversation qualified as such, she stood anyway to leave the room. The manservant was placing a silverware tray complete with a kettle and cups in front of the sofa, and she sat in front of him as he poured the tea for her.

"Thank you…" she trailed off as she searched for the manservant's name.

"Thorold, Madam," he said. "And it is my pleasure."

Asriel joined her moments later, straightening his collar as he sat down. They finished their drink in silence, and though Marisa savoured the flavour of the spiced chai, to her disappointment, the burning liquid washed away the taste of Asriel from her tongue. They both stood together as she buttoned up her coat and started for the door. She stood at the jamb and turned as he came beside her and leaned in to brush his lips against hers. She said nothing else before leaving, but they both knew she would be back again.

* * *

"Now if you think this is cold, you're not at all ready for the north," came a loud and pompous voice beneath the hooded figure in front of them. Beneath the layers of thick cloth was the very plump figure of Nicholas Colby. His moustache fluttered in the harsh wind as they stood on the zeppelin loading dock, above the city line of London. His colleague, a fellow scholar of Jordan, a man who only introduced himself as 'Kraus' nodded in agreement. Colby sniffed and said, "Don't you agree, Lord Asriel?"

Asriel nodded brusquely, adjusting the shoulder strap of his pack and narrowing his eyes as he turned to the eastern sunrise. He was expressionless as he met Marisa's gaze, and her lips quirked in amusement. Finally, an officer opened the door of the buzzing aircraft that was attached to the steel scaffolding of the dock, and motioned them inside.

"We will be arriving in Saint-Petersburg in thirteen hours, gentlemen and lady," said the officer as they took their seats. "Please make yourselves comfortable for the journey."

At once, Gaius turned his head and promptly fell asleep. Colby continued spewing nonsense, but thankfully, Kraus, as quiet and unassuming a man as could be found, listened fully, sparing Marisa and Asriel from having to feign attention.

"Why them?" Asriel said looking upon the pair of scholars with distaste.

"Gaius' insistence. They are leading experts in celestial topography, a field Rusakov used heavily in his research," Marisa said stolidly. "Though _you_ may think your expertise would be more than enough-"

"I _know _it is enough" he corrected.

She stood, tired of his mule-like stubbornness, and retreated to the rear of the cabin where a wide panoramic window gave a spectacular view of the city below. As they gained altitude, the River Thames, shining gold and amber in the emerging morning sun, seemingly became narrower, curling westward out of London and towards Oxford. She stood there for some time, watching London shrink away as they headed east, into a land she had never thought she would see. It was a romantic notion, to be whisked away out of the country with her lover at her side, free to do as she pleased. There were no inhibitions in the north. There was no Edward. However, she thought with an inward sigh, she was not one to be enamored by such a childlike fantasy. The whole idea appealed little to her. She glanced back to Asriel, who had leaned his head back on his seat, angled away from her. But much like the first day they had met, he seemed to have sensed her watching, and turned, catching her gaze. As Marisa let a coy smile slip onto her lips, she thought, childlike fantasy or not, she could not see the harm in taking full advantage of the situation.

* * *

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N - **Wow, a year without updates. I'm really sorry...life's just been too busy whenever I'm at University and my muse just doesn't let the words flow out like before (I'm sure you know the feeling). Thanks for continuing to send your kind reviews. I have written bits and pieces of the rest of the story...but I'm sort of filling in the gaps as I go along. I have a general idea of what I'm doing...but we'll see if it stays that way :P

* * *

Marisa squinted against the harsh force of the arctic winds that had gained speed in the narrows of St. Petersburg's tall buildings. The presence of the church was also apparent here, for it was ever an omniscient force that existed irrespective of locale. The architecture was heavy with looming golden spires and antiquated gray arches, laced with biblical scripture etched in the stone. The indelible stamp of religion, she thought sardonically.

She had wondered before their voyage why they needed to come to such a far off place before heading north to Svalbard, when a direct boat would have sufficed. She had soon learned that they needed to come to meet the final member of their expedition, a Russian who had worked, rather candidly, with Rusakov. The man was a cutthroat, she knew, as he had emerged unscathed from the church's wrath, the force that had been the end of Rusakov. He had let his partner take the blame in entirety, disappearing into obscurity for some time, until his name had been forgotten and the conquest against Rusakov's research had died down.

"Our ship leaves in at dawn tomorrow," Colby said, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "I will go to Bykovsky. You can all settle into the hotel." And with that, he and Kraus turned on their heels and attempted to push past the bustling people on the crowded street.

"Wait!" Asriel called after them, his low voice easily carrying over the clamor. "I think it would be best that I and the Lady go."

Marisa arched a brow, but said nothing, crossing her arms as the Golden Monkey skittered up to her shoulder. It wrapped its tail around her slender neck, its movements full of agitation.

"Why?" Colby said, both bemused and perturbed. "We simply have to fetch him."

The snow leopard gave a low and rumbling growl as Asriel turned away easily, looking Father Gaius hard in the eye. "You know that we would suit the task far better. Let us go."

"What task?" Colby interjected again, scurrying back towards them. "Are you implying that Bykovsky has not yet agreed to the voyage? That we may have come all this way for nothing? Father?"

Gaius nodded sharply at Asriel, who at once took Marisa by the elbow and led her away from the others, until Colby's cries of outrage were lost in the gentle hum of the crowd around them.

"You knew this all along and told me nothing?" Marisa hissed, deliberately slowing down and hindering their advance.

"I overheard Gaius speaking to another priest at Jordan. He said he would send Colby once we arrived to get the scientist, as he had not replied to a telegram. He knew if Jordan found out that Bykovsky was not coming, they would hesitate once more in funding the exploration. He is a key player in this, Marisa."

She gave an exasperated sigh and said, "He was intentionally ignoring all our attempts to contact him. He does not wish to be pulled back into controversy again."

"That's why I insisted you come along for this," Asriel replied, quickening his pace as they went into a narrow cobbled alleyway. His fingers still gripped her elbow as he led them past a large red-bricked building.

They soon came upon a thick wooden door, the material full of knots and cracks, undoubtedly from the terrible winters that the city often endured. Asriel pushed the door open, revealing a well-lit corridor with lush red carpets and ostentatious gold wallpaper. Marisa was impressed that such a posh building could appear so low-key from the outside. Asriel rapped on the fourth door to their right, where heavy brass numbers revealed it was unit 18.

When no reply came, he huffed, his knocking becoming more insistent, until finally, the door creaked open. The man on the other side, tall and slender, looked unsurprised to see them. He stepped aside, allowing them entry. Despite the gaudy appearance of the apartment in the corridor, the furnishings within the unit were sparse. There was a table near a set of oak cupboards that ran along the far wall, a chaise and a bookshelf beside a simple hearth.

"I thought you would come," he said, his words draped in a thick accent. "Perhaps I was not clear enough when I refused to acknowledge your attempts to contact me…"

"We leave by ferry tomorrow, Bykovsky. You will come with us," Asriel stated, unfazed by the man's unwillingness to come.

"I will do no such thing," he whispered slowly, his voice laced with restrained anger as the lizard dæmon on his shoulder clambered up his arm. "You think you can come into my home-"

Marisa clicked her tongue, running a finger along the dusty bookshelf with distaste. "A life of hermitage. Really, this is what you have been reduced too? Brilliant scientist or no, by all accounts now, you are a failure."

The other man narrowed his eyes dangerously, taking a step towards her. But she cut him off, "Defending your honour is all fine and well, but it doesn't leave this room, now does it Bykovsky. Everyone out there thinks you're a fool past his prime, a coward. Or even worse…they don't remember you at all. I can't imagine how terrible that would feel."

Bykovsky's mouth snapped shut as he ran a harried hand through his thinning hair. The sentiments she voiced had been echoing in his mind for years. But to hear the words coming so acerbically from this woman's mouth...

Marisa crossed her hands across her chest, approaching the scientist slowly. She laid a hand on his arm, and gave a slight smile. "Come with us and you will once again be at the pinnacle of your field. No one will forget your name. Never."

Bykovsky began toeing the carpet gently, refusing to acknowledge her. She was about to continue when Asriel grabbed her elbow and forced her back through the door jamb.

Once they were back outside in the corridor, she slapped his hand away, furious. "What in God's name are you doing?!"

"He will come tomorrow. I did not want you to talk his ear off," Asriel stated simply, beginning down the hall. He halted when she did not follow, turning slightly, his profile dark and menacing in the dim light. "I promise – tomorrow we will see him."

She gathered herself quickly and took a few quick strides towards him, taking his arm. "If you are wrong…"

"I am not."

"Then I wish to retire. It's been a long trip," she said, leaning in to let her breath dance against the tanned skin of his neck.

He bent his arm to pull her closer and began to lead them out, back through the chilly streets, and into the warmth of their hotel room.

**TBC**


End file.
